PS I Love You, Steve Rogers
by ocfairygodmother
Summary: As the younger sister of Bucky Barnes, Libby has always harbored feelings toward Steve Rogers. The first time she met him she knew that he was going to be the man that she married. All she had to do was convince him. But then the war came and changed everything.
1. October 1936 I

_October 1936_

A gray October sky was painted above the buildings of Brooklyn, New York. There was a slight nip in the air that rustled the white lace curtains in Elizabeth Barnes's small upstairs bedroom. Elizabeth, fondly known as Libby, tugged on a cardigan for warmth. Libby was the middle daughter of George and Winnifred Barnes. She was seventeen, nearly eighteen years old. Her parents used to refer to her as their Christmas present because she had been born on Christmas Eve of 1918.

Walking across her room, she stopped in front of her vanity and checked her appearance. Her brown hair was already coiffed for today's special occasion, a funeral. Libby would be attending the funeral of her friend's mother later. Mrs. Rogers had died of tuberculosis after years of working in the tuberculosis wing at the hospital. She left behind her only son Steve. Not only did she consider Steve a friend, but she hoped one day to marry him. Libby Barnes loved Steve Rogers and that was no secret. Well, to everyone _but_ Steve. He was completely oblivious to Libby's' affections. He just thought she was being friendly.

Libby sighed and chewed her bottom lip as her brown eyes stared back at her in the mirror. She was missing something. When she realized what it was, she opened the top drawer of her bureau and pulled out a small box. The box contained the string of pearls her parents had given her on her Confirmation Day. The pearls had once belonged to her mother. Money had been a little tight at the time and they couldn't afford new ones. But Libby loved them all the same.

She strung the pearls across her neck and put on the matching earrings before examining herself once more in the mirror. Libby continued to chew her lip. She knew it was a bad habit, but it was a habit she couldn't seem to break. Libby sighed and ran her fingers across the pearls. She knew that it was hardly appropriate given the circumstances, but she hoped that Steve thought she looked pretty.

Libby picked up the framed photograph on her vanity. It was a picture of her, Steve, and Bucky taken at Coney Island. When they were younger, Bucky, Libby's older brother hadn't been happy with her obsession with his best friend. But in truth, Steve was a friend to both of them. Libby wasn't like most other girls in that she didn't have a close female friend. Libby had her brother and Steve. And truthfully, that was all she needed.

She smiled softly as she set the photograph back down and opened the top drawer of her bureau once more. She pulled out a letter. It was a letter she had written months ago. It was addressed to Steve. She had never given it to him because in it, she professed her feelings for him and in the post-script, she even dared to go so far as to tell him that she loved him.

"Where do you think you're going so early?" Bucky asked as Libby quickly shoved the letter back in her bureau. She then eyed her brother. His hair was disheveled from having just woken up. He wasn't fully awake yet. Which was made clear by him widening his eyes several times, yawning, and stretching.

"Where do you think I'm going?" Libby retorted with her hands on her hips. "You know _exactly_ where I'm going."

Bucky sighed and leaned against the doorframe, looking at his sister rather pointedly. "Steve said he wanted to be alone, Elizabeth," Bucky said her full name _Elizabeth_, just to annoy her.

Libby arched an eyebrow at her brother. "And you believed him?" She shook her head and examined her reflection in the mirror once more. She smoothed her hair with her hand. "He just lost his mother, _James_…" Libby purposely used the name her brother didn't like to go by, just to annoy him.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "You'll see him at the church for the service."

Libby then turned to look at her brother with her hands on her hips. "I don't care what you choose to do, but he could really use a friend right now. So, I'm going to him with some breakfast. Lord knows he probably hasn't been eating much. A friend wouldn't let him starve himself."

"Friend, huh?" Bucky scoffed. "You've wanted to be more than a friend to Steve Rogers for years now."

Libby blushed and continued to busy herself with her hair, which already perfectly coiffed. She knew Bucky was trying to goad her. She knew she should ignore him and she tried. But it didn't last. "I don't know to what you are referring to," she said rather hotly, slipping hat pins into her cardigan pocket.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. "You don't have to pretend I don't know, Libby. I know you're sweet on Steve. I mean, you're bringing him breakfast." He paused and looked at his sister with a teasing glint in his eye. "Which I hope you aren't making. Because _that_ might actually kill him before starvation would set in."

Swiftly, Libby picked up her hairbrush and aimed it at her brother. He laughed as he deflected the brush with his arms and it fell to the ground. She looked at her brother incredulously. "My cooking isn't that bad!"

"Rexy won't even eat your cooking, Libby. And that dog eats almost everything." Rexy was the stray dog that roamed their street but always stopped by the Barnes' place for a meal or two every day. The last time Libby had tried to make flapjacks, Bucky slipped his plate to Rexy, but even Rexy wouldn't eat the flapjacks.

"No pithy response, Libby?" Bucky teased. He enjoyed teasing his sister and he did so frequently. But the terrible cooking was completely true.

Folding her arms across her chest, Libby muttered, "I was going to swing by the bakery first."

Bucky chuckled and bridged the distance between them. He rested his hand on his sister's shoulder. "That's probably for the best, little sister." He grinned. Libby rolled her eyes and pushed him away. Bucky laughed. "You know I'm right, Libby."

Libby rolled her eyes again. She hated when her brother got cocky. While he did have a point, she would never admit it. She would never hear the end of it from Bucky if she did. So, instead, she grabbed her gloves that were set on the vanity before she gave her brother's arm a whack with them.

Bucky chuckled as his sister walked past him. "Libby, wait," he called. She stopped and turned toward him. He walked into his room without saying anything. Libby arched an eyebrow at him. He then held his hand out toward her with money in it. "Steve wouldn't like you using your own money on him."

"I made my money and I'm allowed to spend it on whatever or whomever I choose," Libby said stubbornly. She made her own money mending clothes and making quilts. She was already a gifted seamstress at nearly eighteen. Better at sewing than she was cooking.

"And I'm saying that Steve is gonna want you to save your money. Just save yourself the argument today, Libby."

She knew Bucky was right. She reluctantly took the money from Bucky's hand and slipped it into her cardigan pocket. She patted her pocket and then side-stepped her brother. Libby looked over her shoulder and winked at her brother before she disappeared down the stairs."Bye!"

"I want some money back, Libby!" Bucky called after her, despite knowing that he likely wasn't going to get any money back from her. Although, he knew she was going to spend it on Steve, so he had no reason to be angry with her later. Steve needed it more than he did.

Libby was greeted downstairs by her mother and father. They were enjoying a cup of coffee at the breakfast table. "Good morning, Elizabeth," her mother greeted. Mother always called her by her first name, not her nickname. Libby kissed her mother's cheek and then did the same to her father.

"Did you see the letter from Rebecca?" her father asked, not looking up from his newspaper. Rebecca was her younger sister who was away at boarding school in upstate New York. She wouldn't be able to make it for Steve's mother's funeral. Rebecca wasn't as close to Steve and Libby and Bucky.

Libby chuckled and kissed her father's cheek again. "You asked me that at dinner, Pop."

"Just checking, Libby." He softly smiled before he took another sip of his coffee.

"Don't slouch, Elizabeth," her mother gently chided. Libby was always too much of a tomboy for her mother's liking. Mrs. Barnes loved her daughter, but sometimes she feared that she would never be ladylike enough to find a husband. The only boy that never seemed to mind was Steve Rogers. And like her daughter, Mrs. Barnes put all her eggs in one basket as far as her daughter and Steve Rogers were concerned. Steve was likely her daughter's only hope.

Standing straight, Libby smoothed out her jacket and skirt. "Well, I'm going to go see Steve," she announced to her parents. "He probably hasn't had a decent meal since before..."

"You're not planning on cooking, are you?" Mrs. Barnes asked, concern clearly evident in her tone.

"You too?" Libby groaned, throwing her head back.

"How about I make something for you to bring over?' Mrs. Barnes suggested, ignoring her daughter's comment. She quickly stood to her feet and Libby reached out and grabbed her mother's arm.

"I was going to stop at the bakery on my way over," Libby told her mother.

"Oh thank, God," Mrs. Barnes said breathing a sigh of relief. Mr. Barnes chuckled from the table. Libby looked at both of her parents and shook her head.

"Is it really _that_ bad?"

Mr. Barnes quickly picked up his coffee cup and took a long sip of coffee so that he didn't have to answer. Mrs. Barnes gently rubbed her daughter's arm and smiled softly. "We'll just have to keep practicing, sweetheart."

Libby sighed and shook her head. Her mother smiled at her before she kissed her cheek. "Give Steve our love, will you?" Libby nodded her head. "Tell him we'll see him at the service." She nodded her head again. "Which is where I assume we'll see you again?"

After another nod of her head, Libby wiggled free of her mother's arm and headed for the front door. "Behave, Elizabeth!" Mrs. Barnes called after her.

Libby rolled her eyes and reached for the door handle. "Yes, Mother."

"And don't forget your hat!"

There were times when she certainly disliked being a lady. Libby grabbed her hat that was hanging near the door and escaped out the front door before her mother called after her again. Once she was outside, Libby pulled her hat onto her head and her gloves onto her hands before she made her way to the bakery to find something suitable for Steve to eat.

Libby arrived at Steve Roger's apartment carrying a paper sack with bread and pastries and another sack with meats and cheeses. The local shop owners had heard she was going to see Steve and sent her with food for him, for free. She hadn't even needed to spend a penny of Bucky's money. Their neighborhood had a strong sense of community and looked out for each other during hard times, despite the fact that many of them were already enduring hardships.

She peered through the window into the apartment. The door to the bedroom was open and Libby could see Steve still sleeping. She hadn't anticipated needing to wake him. Libby tried turning the door handle, but it was locked. So, she set the bags down in front of the door and back-tracked to the brick on the landing. Libby slid the brick with her foot before she bent down and grabbed the key. She unlocked the door and put the key back where it belonged before she walked into the apartment with the bags.

Her view from the window had not revealed much of the state of the apartment. Then again, Libby noticed Steve sleeping and hadn't looked much further. The place was a mess. Steve usually kept the place very neat and orderly, this was out of the ordinary for him. But he probably hadn't had much time for housework given the circumstances. Poor thing. He probably wasn't holding it together as well as he let on.

Libby put the paper sacks on the counter before she walked to Steve's room to wake him. He actually looked peaceful sleeping there. Although, he was in need of a bath or perhaps it was the sheets that needed a good washing. Clearly, he was in need of a little help and Libby was more than willing to offer her services, mostly because she knew it would mean spending more time with him.

As Libby approached the bed, she wanted to reach out and run her fingers through Steve's hair. But she refrained. They were nothing more than friends, despite Libby's desires to be more and she could never seem to bring herself to tell him otherwise. She simply kept hoping that he would wake up one day and realize he was in love with her too.

Libby placed her hand on Steve's shoulder and gently shook him. "Steve. Steve, wake up," she called. His face scrunched as he buried his head further in the pillows. Libby chewed her lip before she shook him a little harder. "Steve. Steve."

That seemed to wake him, although Libby hadn't anticipated that he would leap from his bed and pin her against the wall by her shoulders. His face was so close to her that she could have kissed him, but she didn't. Instead, she watched as his moment of confusion turned into realization. "Libby?" he asked, breathing somewhat raggedly. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you breakfast," Libby responded, enjoying the slight pressure on her shoulders from his hands. She glanced at his hands, but that made him realize that he was holding onto her. His eyes widened in slight horror before he quickly removed his hands and shoved them in his pants pockets. He hadn't changed from the day before.

"Look, Libby, I appreciate what you're trying to do but…"

Libby took her index finger and pressed it against his lips, shushing him. "No buts, Steve. Quit being so stubborn. From the look of things, you could do with a little help and I want to help you."

Steve sighed and hung his head a little. He then looked up at her. "You didn't cook it, did you? Buck's told me stories…"

With a flabbergasted expression on her face, Libby put her gloved hands on her hips and looked at Steve incredulously. Steve gave her a very slight, tired smile. Libby rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'll have you know that I stopped at the bakery on my way over. Although, I suppose I should be glad my cooking gave you a reason to smile."

Steve gave another tired smile and nodded his head. He ran his fingers through his hair before he looked at the clock on his windowsill. His brow furrowed. "What time is it?" he asked Libby.

Libby glanced at the clock. It had stopped working hours ago. She placed her hands on his shoulders and turned him around. She started walking him toward the bathroom. "It's time for you to get washed up. You can't go to…" Libby paused. While she knew that he knew where they were going, she didn't want to be so blunt as to remind him in such a way. "You can't go out like this," she finished softly.

She pushed him into the bathroom and was about to shut the door for him when he turned and looked at her. They eye levels matched each other. "Wait, Libby," he said, his voice sounding awfully serious.

"Yes?" she asked, leaning her face against the door and smiling sweetly at him, batting her eyelashes. Libby knew now was not the time to try and charm Steve, but he brought out this side to her that she could hardly seem to control.

"How'd you get in?" Steve asked. "I mean, I locked the door before I went to sleep last night...at least, I think I did. Unless you've taken up lock-picking..."

Libby looked at him and chuckled, "Do you honestly think I don't know about the key under the brick outside your door? Rather obvious if you ask me."

Steve's mouth formed an '_o'_ as he understood what she was telling him. Libby smiled. She always enjoyed making him speechless. She motioned with her hands for him to do what he needed to do before she closed the door.

Libby then leaned against the closed door and sighed. She couldn't help but imagine that this was _their_ home and that this was what it might feel like being married to Steve. She could easily see him getting ready and her getting breakfast on the table, maybe one day with a few kids underfoot. It seemed a rather simple life, but it was a life Libby had longed for...for years. She just hoped that Steve one day felt the same.

After one last sigh, Libby pushed herself off the door and walked back to the main room. She took her gloves off and began to clean up a little. She didn't mind. It wasn't only because she was sweet on him, as Bucky would say, but because she knew that if the situations had been reversed, Steve would have been there for her and Bucky. Steve was a good, kind-hearted person. That was one of the many things Libby admired about Steve Rogers.

Once the table was cleared, Libby washed a few dishes before she set it for breakfast, just as she had been taught since she was very young. She then pushed her cardigan sleeve up her arm a little to reveal a wristwatch left to her by a great aunt. Her brow furrowed. Steve was going to need to hurry. Libby called for him. "Steve!"

A few moments later, Steve entered the main living area. He was dressed for the day, but his hair was still wet from having washed it. He had a towel slung around his shoulders to keep the water from dripping onto his clothes. Each of his hands held onto an end of the towel as he peered over at the table to see the spread Libby had prepared. "Thanks, Libby. I really appreciate you doing this for me."

Libby eyed him carefully and pursed her lips. "I'm sensing a but."

His lips almost made it into a small smile. Had the pain from losing his mother not been so raw, he would have smiled. Instead, he nodded his head. "But I'm just not all that hungry. I haven't had much of an appetite since..." His words trailed off and his expression saddened.

But Libby had anticipated him expressing as much. "You don't have to eat it all," she said softly. "I just didn't know what you'd want, so I put it all out. You gotta eat something, Steve. You're gonna need some strength today." She gave him a soft, meaningful smile.

Steve sighed and nodded his head. He walked to the table and pulled out a chair. "Then how about you join me?" He motioned for her to sit. While Libby wanted to accept, she also didn't want to appear to be too eager. Steve must have realized this because before she could say anything he said, "C'mon, Libby. I'm not eating this all by myself. It'd be a shame to waste the kindness people have shown."

Steve knew exactly what to say to get her to accept. It would have been a terrible shame to waste food. Times had been hard the last several years and they had learned not to waste what they had been given. So, Libby sat down on the chair he offered her and he sat down on the chair beside her. Again, Libby couldn't help but feel that this was what it might one day be like to be married to him. Some might call her a silly girl with a silly fantasy, but Libby thought of it as knowing what she wanted.

Steve took a pastry off the plate before he picked the plate up and held it up for Libby to grab something. She grabbed a pastry and set it down on a plate. She watched as he reached for a coffee cup when her eyes widened in horror. She had forgotten to make the coffee. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Steve held up his hand to stop. "It's fine, Lib." He eyed the fresh milk on the table and reached for it. "I-I think I'd prefer a glass of milk anyway."

He poured himself some milk and took a sip of milk before he made eye contact with her again. Libby knew that despite whatever Steve was feeling right now, he was still going out of his way to make her feel better. _Her_. Another thing she loved about Steve Rogers. Her list could probably go on forever.

They finished their pastries in silence. Steve then stood up and walked back into his room. He came back with a tie and jacket. Steve stopped in front of the mirror in the main room and attempted to tie his tie as Libby put away the food. But Steve couldn't seem to manage the tie. Libby walked over to him. "Here, let me."

Steve stopped and sighed before he turned toward Libby. Libby smiled at him and reached up to grab his tie. "I'll let you in on a secret," Libby said as she worked Steve's tie. "Bucky doesn't know how to do his either. He has Pop do them first." She paused and made eye contact with him. "Don't let him tell you otherwise."

He blinked and nodded his head.

Libby then smoothed out his tie. "There." Her brown eyes met his blue ones. "You ready?" she whispered.

His eyes glistened as he cast his eyes downward. "I don't know that one is actually ever ready for something like this," Steve responded his tone rather dour.

Libby gently tipped his chin back up with her finger. "But you don't have to do this alone, Steve. You've always been there for me...and Bucky." She hastily added her brother's name before she cleared her throat. "Let us be there for you. If the tables were turned you likely wouldn't let us rid ourselves of you." Libby smiled softly at him.

Steve didn't say anything. He shoved his hands in his pants pockets and nodded his head. It was obvious he was in pain. Libby wished she could take his pain for him, or at least help lessen the load. But she also knew that Steve wouldn't want to impose and trouble her. She would have to do her best to convince him. Libby glanced down at her wristwatch once more.

"We'd best be leaving."

Steve sighed and nodded his head. Libby knew that despite his pleasant demeanor toward her, he was battling something inside. This was likely to be one of the hardest days of his life and she was going to be there for him. Libby watched as Steve shrugged on his jacket and crossed the room to the door. He opened it and motioned of Libby to go first. Always a gentleman.

Libby crossed the room and walked out of the apartment. She pulled on her gloves once more as Steve locked the door with the key normally hidden under the brick. He then put the key back. In silence, they walked down the outside stairs to find the Barnes family car parked in the alley. Libby smiled as Bucky waved for them to get in the car from the backseat behind their parents.

Steve's brow furrowed.

"I told you, let us be there for you." Libby smiled. "You think we're bothersome now, ignore us and it will get worse. Trust me."

Steve visibly sighed, his shoulders sinking a bit. He looked at Libby, who was staring at him waiting for a response. Rather reluctantly, he nodded his head agreeing to a ride to the church with the Barnes family. The ride to the church was a rather silent affair, but they would get through it...together.

* * *

**Author's Note: I blame the people of Tumblr for encouraging this plot bunny, especially notcarlsjr. (On that note, go read their Steve x OC fic Reality in Motion) I also blame Nixdragon who beta-ed it. Thank you to those of you who have taken a chance on Libby!**


	2. October 1936 II

_October 1936 II_

It was rather stuffy inside the small church. All the windows were open to hopefully bring in the cool air from outside. The building was surprisingly full. Medical professionals, both past and current, army veterans, and faces from the neighborhood made up most of the crowd. Sarah Rogers had made quite a profound impact on people's lives. But Steve was Sarah's only family member in attendance. Steve had been Sarah's only family for the last few years and now he had no one.

Because of that, Libby refused to leave Steve's side as they entered the church. He had tried to convince her to go sit with her family, but she had refused him. Libby knew that he was going to need someone. Instead, she held fast to his arm as they walked behind the casket being carried in. Steve made no move to shake her off and free his arm. Instead, he looked at her and sighed, accepting her help, before they walked the short aisle toward the simple wooden casket. It was all that could be afforded from the neighborhood collection, which Libby was certain her father had contributed most of. Not that he told Steve that. He didn't want Steve to feel obligated to him in any way, because Steve was the type of guy that would feel beholden.

With Libby on his arm, Steve stopped a few feet from where the casket had been placed. Steve took a rather shaky breath before the turned to look at Libby. "Libby, I…" his voice cracked. She could see the tears threatening to spill in his eyes. Libby gently rubbed his arm with her gloved hand. He wanted to do _this_ on his own. She could give him that, but she wouldn't go far.

"I'll wait right here," she whispered, looking him in the eyes.

Steve blinked back some tears and nodded his head. Libby removed her hand from him and watched as he slowly took his last steps toward his mother. He took a deep breath, well, as deep as his asthma would allow before he slowly lowered his shaky hands to the top of the casket. His thumbs rubbed circles on the smooth wood. Libby saw a few of Steve's unbidden tears fall onto the casket.

After a sharp inhalation, Steve pulled away from the casket. He hung his head as he turned toward Libby, not wanting anyone to see his tears. When he approached Libby, he rested his hand on her back and with his other hand ushered her toward the front pew. Libby walked into the pew and sat down, leaving space for Steve to sit. Her mother, father, and Bucky were also seated in the pew. Bucky gave her a knowing look and shook his head. Libby blushed, but thankfully once Steve was seated, the preacher began to speak.

The preacher talked about Sarah Rogers and of how she was a good, kind, decent person taken away too soon, but received her crown of joy. Steve's hand shook as it rested on his knee. Without even thinking, Libby reached over and took hold of his hand with hers. His hand stopped shaking and curled around hers. Realizing what she had done, Libby cast a side glance at Steve to see his reaction. He didn't even seem fazed by her action. Instead, he kept his gaze on the preacher while holding onto her hand. Libby refused to even glance Bucky's way to see if he had a reaction.

When it was Steve's turn to go up and give a eulogy, Libby gave his hand a firm squeeze before she released his hand and he slowly made his way up to the pulpit. He took a folded up piece of paper out of the pocket inside his suit coat. Without looking up at those gathered, Steve unfolded the piece of paper and smoothed it out on the pulpit. He cleared his throat and looked up. His eyes widened, taking notice for the first time of everyone gathered. Steve looked like he was about to panic, but then he made eye contact with Libby.

Libby took a deep breath to remind him to breathe and Steve followed suit, taking a breath. She then nodded her head, letting him know that everything was going to be okay and he nodded his head back. Again, Libby refused to look at Bucky.

Steve cleared his throat once more. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Sarah's son, Steve." He paused and then slightly chuckled, shaking his head. "But you probably figured as much when the preacher said as much before I came up here."

Small chuckles rippled through those in attendance. Even Libby chuckled.

He took another breath and continued. "From the looks of it, some of you worked with my mom. She never had a bad thing to say about any of you. She always reminded me of how dedicated each and every one of you was. She would say that it was an honor to work beside such hard-working people like you."

Libby looked over her shoulder to see people nodding.

"And I think some of you were helped by my mom when you came back stateside after the war before she moved to the tuberculosis ward. She spoke of how brave you were and how you deserved the very best after everything you did on behalf of our country. And some of you probably even knew my dad. Mom always appreciated those of you who would stop by occasionally to check on a widow and her son. It meant a lot to her...and me. It meant a lot to me too."

"I see some people from the neighborhood here. Mom always appreciated your kindness and willingness to help out those in need. While Mom liked to be able to provide for us on her own, she was always appreciative that you wanted to help us, even if she didn't always let you help. Mom loved people. She loved being able to help people. She loved being able to comfort them during a time of loss. And that's just what Mom decided to do before she died. She decided to find words of comfort for those who would mourn her loss."

Steve closed his eyes and his fingers tightly gripped the pulpit. He took another breath and opened his eyes, but kept his gaze on the pulpit. "Mom loved to read her Bible and so it's rather fitting that she chose to find words of comfort from it." Steve gave a small, tired smile. "She chose her favorite psalm, Psalm 23."

Libby mouthed the words along with Steve as he read. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

When he had finished reading, Steve folded up the piece of paper and put it back in his suit coat pocket. Without another word, he stepped down from the podium and walked back to his spot in the front pew beside Libby. She offered him a reassuring smile. He nodded his head in response. Steve sat down, but seconds after he was seated, the preacher had them stand for prayers. That always seemed to happen in church. Just when you sat down, they would stand the congregation back up. Libby knew this from when she sang for church.

So, they stood up. Libby was surprised to find that Steve reached for her hand as he bowed his head for prayer. A slight blush crept up Libby's cheeks as Steve gave her hand a squeeze. She squeezed his back and bowed her head. Libby knew she probably shouldn't read too much into this. He probably was just acknowledging that he needed someone to lean on. It was likely his small way of letting someone be there for him. But that didn't stop Libby from hoping that it meant something more.

After what seemed like a hundred amens, they were finally allowed to sit once more. Steve still held onto her hand. The preacher announced the final hymn. With her free hand, Libby reached to grab the hymnal in front of her, but before she could grab it, Bucky swiped it. He offered her a quick wink before he paged through the book for the closing hymn. That left one hymnal for her and Steve to share.

Steve released her hand and reached for the hymnal. Once he found the hymn, Steve held the hymnal toward her. She smiled softly. Even in his grief, he thought to be kind to her. Most of the boys in Libby's experience would be too consumed by their grief to think of someone else. Steve was different. As the hymn started, Libby's bright soprano voice soared over the rest of the congregation. While Libby's first dream was to be a wife and mother, her second dream was to be a singer. And while her first dream of marrying Steve wasn't completely sensible, it was much more sensible than her second dream.

The hymn finished. Bucky, Mr. Barnes, a doctor Mrs. Rogers once worked with, two army men Libby didn't recognize, and Mr. Anthony who lived in the apartment downstairs from the Rogers' family all stood up and walked up to the casket to carry it out. They had been chosen as the pallbearers for the service. Libby saw Steve's mouth _thank you_ to them. Bucky nodded his head. Mrs. Rogers' casket was then carried down the aisle of the small church.

Steve stood up. He stood in the aisle to let Libby and Mrs. Barnes out of the pew. Mrs. Barnes gently rested her hand on Steve's shoulder and looked at him sympathetically. Steve nodded his head. They stood there for a second, which seemed like an eternity, debating who should go first: the women or Steve. But Mrs. Barnes was quick to solve the issue, "Go on, dear," she whispered to Steve.

Steve inhaled slowly and then nodded his head. He looked at Libby. He slightly moved his arm toward her. If she hadn't been looking at his arm, she would have missed his attempt at the gesture. Right now, he needed her. So, she gently placed her hand on his arm and slowly walked with him behind his mother's casket. She could feel eyes on them, but right now Steve needed her.

They walked outside, stopping at the bottom of the steps watching as Mrs. Rogers' casket was loaded into the hearse. Steve stiffened as he tried to not let his tears spill. "No one will think any less of you," Libby whispered to him.

He gently patted her hand that rested on his arm before he removed his arm from her grasp. "I should go thank everyone that came," he said, ignoring her words.

"Steve," Libby gently chided.

"Its what my mom would want." Steve then ran back up the steps of the church to thank those exiting the church building.

Libby sighed and shook her head as she watched Steve shake hands with the first gentleman to exit the church. While Steve could certainly be sweet, he was also just as stubborn. He was avoiding the inevitable and Libby had a feeling he was going to have a breakdown at the cemetery.

With his hands shoved into his pants pockets, Bucky approached his sister. He stood beside her watching Steve shaking hands with another funeral attendee. "I saw that in there," he commented to his sister.

"I don't know what you're referring to," Libby responded coyly.

Bucky chuckled. "I'm just letting you know that I approve."

That hadn't always been the case. When Libby first started being sweet on Steve, Bucky had been quite furious. But now Bucky saw it more as a point to tease his sister. Libby folded her arms across her chest. "You're incorrigible," she retorted. When she saw her mother looking at her sternly, she unfolded her arms from her chest dropped them to her side. It wasn't very welcoming to have ones' arms folded across their chest.

Bucky leaned toward his sister and whispered in her ear. "You should give him that letter."

Libby's heart sank as she looked at her brother incredulously. She knew he was referring to the letter she had carefully kept hidden away in her bureau drawer. How did Bucky know about that? He had likely rifled through her belongings and gone snooping at some point.

Bucky smirked. "Steve's a good guy, but he doesn't have a clue. I haven't said anything because...I just haven't."

"The letter isn't for him, _James_."

"Your postscript says otherwise,_ Elizabeth."_

Libby groaned. Of course, he had seen _that_. He was likely to lord it over her 'til kingdom come. "Why do you even care?" Libby hissed quietly for only Bucky to hear while keeping her composure for those passing by them.

"What can I say? After all this, I just wanna see Steve happy and I think my little sister can do that for him." Bucky pulled one of his hands out of his pockets to wave at one of Steve's neighbor's he knew rather well.

Libby arched an eyebrow at her brother. "So, you don't want to see me happy?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "This is why most men find you annoying. They think you impertinent."

Libby's jaw dropped at her brother's comment. If looks could kill, Bucky likely would have dropped dead in front of everyone. But he quickly put both his hands out in front of him in defense. "Hey now, I didn't say _I_ thought that...or that even Steve for that matter."

"Just everyone else," Libby retorted.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. Had they not been in public, Libby would have slugged her brother. Libby squared her shoulders. "Now isn't the time for this, _James_," Libby chided. "He just lost his mother. He's grieving and he's going to be grieving for some time. I don't want him thinking I pity him."

"No, you're just in love with him and he doesn't know. That isn't really any better...for either of you."

Libby shook her head, biting her tongue the best she could. But it wasn't in her nature, especially with her brother. "Those people who find me impertinent have clearly never met you."

She stomped one of her heeled shoes near her brother's foot before she walked toward her parents. Although she could have sworn she heard Bucky mutter, "Impertinent, huh? I'll show you impertinent. Just you wait."

Libby stayed by parents' sides until all the funeral goers had dispersed leaving only Steve and the Barnes family. Steve looked exhausted, but he still had a private graveside memorial to attend. He descended the stairs and extended his hand toward Mr. Barnes. "Thank you, sir," Steve said shaking Mr. Barnes's hand.

"We're here for you, Steve," Mr. Barnes said echoing Libby's words from earlier. "I've always thought of you as a son and that's not going to change."

"Thank you, sir," Steve responded as he released Mr. Barnes's hand.

"Dinner. You can come for dinner as often as you want, Steven," Mrs. Barnes said, again with her annoying habit of using a person's full first name. Steve attempted a smile. "I expect to see you no less than once a week, you hear me?"

"I hear you, Mrs. Barnes," Steve said with a sigh.

Mrs. Barnes beamed with satisfaction as Bucky approached them after having flirted with some dame who had been passing by on the street. Libby found her brother utterly predictable when it came to the fairer sex and for some reason, women would flock to him. She found it rather annoying that her brother could charm almost anyone. She could only hope that one day Bucky would meet his match in a woman, who wasn't afraid to knock him down a peg or two. Of course, Libby thought so in a loving manner.

As Mrs. Barnes continued to talk with Steve, Libby turned toward her brother. "Was that necessary?" Libby whispered to her brother. "Today of all days?"

"The lady was in need of directions," Bucky responded to his sister. "I don't think Mrs. Rogers would have minded."

Libby arched an eyebrow at her brother. "You must be terrible at giving directions then. You two were chatting an awfully long time."

Bucky just grinned. He knew that now wasn't the time to reveal that he was going out dancing with the lady later in the week. Instead, he looked at Steve and smiled sympathetically at him. "How you holding up?" Bucky asked.

"I'm fine, Buck," Steve said shoving his hands in his pants pockets. His tone was a little clipped. He had probably just heard that sentiment dozens of times from those he had just thanked for coming and was a little annoyed it was coming from his best friend. Steve sighed and muttered an apology under his breath. Bucky patted Steve's shoulder. Mr. Barnes patted Steve's other shoulder. Like father, like son.

"Let us take you to the cemetery, son," Mr. Barnes said softly.

"I appreciate the offer, Mr. Barnes, I really do. But I could use some fresh air and a walk would do me good," Steve responded.

"If you're sure, son."

"I am."

Mrs. Barnes walked up to him and smoothed the lapels of his coat. "Will we see you for dinner?" she asked making eye contact with him.

Steve looked a little uncomfortable. While Mrs. Barnes's intentions were good, they seemed a bit suffocating. Libby then intervened. "Mother, how about Steve comes tomorrow so we can make his favorite meal?" Steve looked at Libby and his eyes shown volumes of thankfulness.

"That's an excellent idea, Elizabeth," Mrs. Barnes said.

"Except the part about Libby cooking it," Bucky teased.

Mrs. Barnes shot Bucky a look that wiped the smile from his face and his stance straightened. She didn't mind Bucky teasing his sister at home, but it was hardly appropriate in public. She would certainly have some words for him later.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Steve said to the Barnes family. "Thank you for coming. I appreciate it and I know Mom would too." He shook Mr. Barnes's hand. Mrs. Barnes hugged him, which he hadn't expected. Steve nodded in Bucky and Libby's direction and then started to walk away.

Libby pulled her outer layer a little closer to her body as she watched Steve walk away. He looked a little deflated. Today had been hard for him and he still had to bury his mother. Libby sighed.

"Elizabeth," her mother hissed.

Libby's gaze turned toward her mother who was not so subtly nodding her head in Steve's direction. Libby's brow furrowed as her mother continued the gesture. Mrs. Barnes sighed. "Elizabeth, go with him."

Libby looked at Bucky and then pointed to herself in disbelief. "Me?" she squeaked.

Mrs. Barnes looked at her daughter incredulously and rolled her eyes, a sight Libby had rarely ever seen from her mother. "Your temperament is better suited for him right now," she said as she looked at Bucky.

Bucky took a moment to understand his mother's words. By the time he fully understood what his mother was saying, Libby was already running after Steve. She didn't need to be told again.

Libby's hat nearly flew off her head as she ran after Steve. So, she ripped it from her head and carried it in her hands until she reached Steve. Steve jumped when he noticed that Libby was beside him, a little out of breath. Libby would have laughed at his reaction had she not been trying to breathe.

"What are you doing here?" Steve questioned.

"I thought it obvious," Libby retorted.

Steve stopped walking. "Libby, go back with your family, please."

"You really think you can get rid of me that easily?" Libby ran her gloved hands through her now unkempt hair, trying to smooth it back into submission. With a puff of air, she blew a stray tendril out of her face.

"Libby."

"Steve."

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her sternly. "I can do this on my own."

"But you don't have to." Libby looked him straight in the eye, her warm brown eyes trying to tell him what she couldn't voice. "Now, if you'd prefer, I can follow behind from a distance. You won't even know I'm there unless you want me to make myself known. Either way, I'm going with you." Not wanting to appear too brazen in front of him, she tacked on, "Mostly because my mother scares me more than you do."

Steve leaned his head back and then nodded knowingly. He knew how Mrs. Barnes could be. He had a feeling that Mrs. Barnes had a streak very similar to Libby's in her younger years. Not that he would ever ask her such a thing. Steve sighed. "Alright, you can come. But mostly because your mother scares me more than you do."

Libby smiled at him. She placed her hat back on top of her head and they began to walk through Brooklyn toward the cemetery where Sarah Rogers was to be buried. Neither Steve nor Libby said a word as they walked. They simply walked in a comfortable silence together. As opposed as he had seemed to the idea, he really was glad Libby had taken it upon herself to be there for him. He really appreciated having a friend there.

Once they reached the cemetery, Steve and Libby walked silently under the wrought iron arched entrance. Steve knew where to go. His mother was to be buried beside his father. Steve usually went to the cemetery by himself or with his mother. He had never taken someone besides his mother with him, until now. Steve gently rested his hand on Libby's elbow to guide her to the gravesite.

Libby silently stood beside him as he watched his mother's casket was lowered into the ground. She gently took his hand and held it, silently becoming his strength as he tried to keep himself from weeping. He held tightly onto her hand as the preacher spoke the heart-wrenching words. "We, therefore, commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Christ Jesus."

Steve shook, despite the fact that Libby held fast to him. The preacher looked at Steve sympathetically. "Go on, son," the preacher said nodding toward the pile of dirt.

He inhaled sharply. Libby gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Steve, still holding onto her hand, bent down and grasped a handful of dirt with his free hand. Slowly, he let the dirt trickle from his fisted hand and onto his mother's casket. When there was no more dirt in his hand, he slowly dropped his hand back to his side. Still holding onto her hand, Libby wrapped her free hand around his arm to try and steady his shaking.

The preacher said one last prayer before he excused himself. He patted Steve on the shoulder before he walked away. The undertakers walked away as well, leaving Libby and Steve were alone at the gravesite. Steve still shook, trying to hold in all his emotions. Libby looked at him, her eyes pricking with tears just watching him.

"It's okay," she breathed. Her words weren't meant in an _everything is going to be okay_ from now on sense. No, she meant them in an _it's okay to show some weakness_ sense. She knew Steve rarely liked to show weakness because most people already perceived him as weak. But for reasons beyond his understanding, he knew that Libby never saw him that way.

Steve glanced at her, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. He understood what she had meant by her words. A few seconds later, Steve fell to his knees and began to bitterly sob at his mother's graveside. Without thinking of propriety or her dress and stockings, Libby knelt on the grass beside Steve. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and let him cry on her shoulder. Steve clung to her. He didn't regret bringing her with him. He needed her more than he thought he did.

When Steve pulled away, Libby was ready with her handkerchief to wipe his cheeks. Surprisingly, he sat very still as she did so, his eyes still glistening. As Libby put her handkerchief back in her pocket, Steve stood to his feet. He then reached out his hand to help Libby up. She accepted his hand and stood once more. Steve turned toward his mother's grave and said one last goodbye before he and Libby left in silence. Words were not needed between them.

* * *

**Author's Note: I had too many thoughts for October 1936 so here's another chapter! I really wanted to show more of Libby and Steve and how Libby already supports him. There will be a few more chapters before I get to the time of the first Captain America movie. Some times that will likely (but not for sure) to be included 1939 when **_**The Wizard of Oz**_** comes to theaters, 1941- May 25th, Dodgers game & December 7th/8th - Pearl Harbor/FDR speech. Are there any others you would be interested in seeing? (No guarantees, but I'm willing to listen)**

**My beta is on vacation, so I posted this without nixdragon looking it over. I apologize for any errors. They are mine. One can only look at their work over so many times before their mind turns to mush.**

**A huge thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and followed. Your encouragement means a lot to me!**

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